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Page 403 - with but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundlefs as the fea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite. I hear fome noife within; Dear love, adieu ! Anon, good nurfe !—Sweet Montague, be true. Stay but a little, I will come again. [Exit.

Page 254 - For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia. COR. And fo I am, I am. LEAR. Be your tears wet? Yes, 'faith. I pray, If you have poifon for me, I will drink it. I know, you do not love me; for your

Page 399 - who thou art, If any of my kinfmen find thee here. ROM. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch thefe walls ; * For ftony limits cannot hold love out: And what love can do, that dares love attempt ; Therefore thy kinfmen are no let to me.' JUL. If they do fee thee, they will murder thee.

Page 373 - of nothing. ROM. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace ; MER. True, I talk of dreams; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantafy ; Which is as thin of fubftance as the air; And more inconftant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bofom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,

Page 252 - How does my royal lord ? How fares your majefty ? LEAR. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the grave :— Thou art a foul in blifs ; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do fcald like molten lead.

Page 410 - The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb ; * What is her burying grave, that is her womb : And from her womb children of divers kind We fucking on her natural bofom find ; Many for many virtues excellent, None but for fome, and yet all different. O, mickle is the powerful grace, 1 that lies In herbs, plants,

Page 157 - LEAR. Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy daughters ! KENT. He hath no daughters, fir. LEAR. Death, traitor ! nothing could have fubdu'd nature To fuch a lownefs, but his unkind daughters.— Is it the faihion, that difcarded fathers Should have thus little mercy on their

Page 225 - This world I do renounce ; and, in your fights, Shake patiently my great affliction off: If I could bear it longer, and not fall To quarrel with your great oppofelefs wills, My fnuff, and loathed part of nature, fhould Burn itfelf out. If Edgar live, O, blefs him !— Now, fellow, fare thee well.